Beyiond the Byline: A mint metallic green Ford Galaxy and I hit the road

WILKES-BARRE — There was that time that I drove my ultra-hot Pontiac GTO to Sandy Beach at Harveys lake for the Friday night dance in the pavilion.

My buddies were with me and I pulled into the parking lot and headed for a spot on what used to be the Sandy Beach Drive-In land.

I pulled up and parked, but somehow I managed to have all four wheels off the ground. The land was undulating and we were faced with a peculiar problem.

So we hopped out of the powder blue rag-top and surveyed the situation. We decided it would be best to try to push the car backward to allow the rear tires to get traction. It worked and I parked on more level terrain.

This was a not so unusual occurerence on Friday nights when we were all young lions. We couldn’t wait to get to “The Lake” to the dance and hear Eddie Day & the Nightimers play all of our favorite songs.

We weren’t shy by any means. With the help of just a little bit of alcohol, we mustered up the courage to dance all night. We would get so over-heated, we would run down the steps of the two-story dance hall and strip off our shoes, shorts and shirts and go swimming in our boxers to cool off.

Yeah, those were the days.

Harveys Lake on Friday night it was Sandy Beach and Eddie Day, This was the scone, man. And we loved it.

We were barely out of high school, still unsure on where our futures were headed. All we knew is that Friday night in the summer meant pizza, a couple of beers and dancing at “The Beach.”

Weekends at Sandy Beach were mandatory in the maturation process. After our Friday night dancing, we would head back out to the beach to lay on towels and check out the scenery, as they say. Transistor radios were blaring and kids were having fun.

On my nightly drives, I often find myself circling Harveys Lake and every time I approach Sand Beach, I get sad at what I see. The beach is all but gone. The dance pavilion is gone. The music is gone. The kids are gone. And I can’t remember the last time I saw or heard a transistor radio.

Those good times are long gone. But our memories are as fresh as ever and that keeps “The Beach” alive.

I remember the night I rode with my pal in his Volkswagon Beetle. It was a standard shift. I had never driven a standard shift car.

Anyway, during the evening’s proceedings, my pal became unable to drive his car, leaving me in a dilemma. Another pal was there and I informed him of the situation.

This pal informed me that he had just purchased a brand new 1969 Ford Galaxy — mint metallic green, white vinyl roof and white leather interior. He made it clear that he was not going to allow me to drive that car, which if I recall, had less than 100 miles on it.

I reasoned with him, begged him in fact to the point he reluctantly decided that he would drive the Volkswagon Beetle to Elby’s on Route 11 where I would meet him. He warned me to stay in front of him so he could watch me driving that brand new Ford Galaxy of his.

Let me just say that once I hit the Dallas highway, I rolled down the windows and turned on the interior lights of that brand new mint metallic green Ford Galaxy with a white vinyl roof and white leather interior and away I went.

I wanted everybody to see me in that car — especially all the girls. My stock was going to rise that night for sure.

Anyway, I got to Elby’s and waited, and waited, and waited for the Volkswagon Beetle to arrive.

Let me just say, it was an ugly scene, man. My incapacitated pal got sick in the car and, well, I’ll save the details.

My friend — the owner of the brand new 1969 Ford Galaxy, mint metallic green, white vinyl roof and white interior — was not happy. He left kind of upset. I remained with my pal and a car I couldn’t drive.

I had to call for help.

It was a long night from that point. It ended with us getting caught by my friend’s father. I was ordered to return to his house Saturday morning to clean the car.

There was no return trip to “The Beach” that Saturday. We managed to clean the car as best we could and we decided to hang out in front of C. Matus’ News that night, holding up the parking meters out front and watching the world go by.

Yes, we learned a valuable lesson.

But I did drive that brand new 1969 Ford Galaxy and I was seen by a lot of my peers.

The following week they asked where my new car was.

I can’t remember what my answer was.